


If Someone Can Be Remembered They Can Come Back (or) The History of the Leonard Snart and Mick Rory (Criminal and Otherwise) Relationship

by Huntress69



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Angst (Via Flashbacks), Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Everyone Should Have A Martin Stein In Their Lives, Humor, Len And Mick Used To Be Totally Immoral Criminals, Leonard Snart Is Awesome, M/M, Many Mentions Of Violent Acts, Mick Can Converse When He Wants To, Mick Rory Is Awesome, References 1x9 "Left Behind"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-06 06:37:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6743305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huntress69/pseuds/Huntress69
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The team goes out sans Martin (who's sick) and Mick (who's on "post-Chronos" probation). The team inadvertently causes an anomaly and Mick is erased from the timeline. Being Martin is aboard the Waverider he remembers Mick, but nobody else does. While Rip and Gideon try to sort things out, Martin tells the team about Mick and then has a private conversation with Len. Len is then hit with 30 years of memories - memories that should in no way exist as Mick Rory has never existed. Yet they do. Beginning when Len was 14....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Disappearance

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Beta by Lynda and some day I shall meet her and thank her in person. All remaining mistakes are mine. If you find any, please send Mick to spank me. I promise not to enjoy it in the slightest.  
> 2) I decided to give Len and Mick an entire (and somewhat violent) criminal history over 30 years and came up with my own ideas of how they got their criminal "nicknames".  
> 3) A reminder that Len and Mick are not 'choir boys'; The Flash did, after all, make Len promise to not kill any more innocent people.  
> 4) I altered Lisa's history to fit the fic and also altered a few things with The Flash.  
> 5) I refer to Gideon as female; she is, after all, voiced by Amy Pemberton.  
> 6) Title paraphrased From "Doctor Who" 5x12 "The Pandorica Opens".  
> 7) Longest title ever.  
> 

**Disclaimer:** Mick belongs to Len. Or maybe Len belongs to Mick. All I know is they don't belong to me.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

It had been a month since Mick had rejoined the team and almost six weeks since there was any word on Savage.

After 1958 Vandal Savage seemed to have vanished again, so all they could do was wait for something to pop up on Gideon's 'radar'.

After half his crew had been stranded for two years (to them, but a few days to the rest of the team) Rip felt he owed them all favors.

Len didn't want anything; he had Mick back.

As to the others, Rip had been terrified as to what they would ask for, but strangely enough, their requests had been simple.

Sara wanted to visit the North Pole and sleep in an igloo. 

Rip nearly asked why but thought better of it; instead he just made it happen.

Ray wanted to see the Apollo 11 launch in 1969 as they took off for the moon. 

No problem there; the entire team enjoyed it.

Kendra wanted a trip to her favorite bakery, which she hadn't been to since she was a teenager in West Virginia, before her family moved to Central City. She missed their pies.

Which was where they were now - January 23rd (Kendra's birthday) in the year 1970, because Rip wanted no chance of her running into herself.

"I want to go with you." Mick glared at all of them. 

"We're just going to get snacks, Mick," Len told him. "The Professor is sick and needs somebody to watch out for him, and this means you."

"Is this some form of probation because of Chronos?" Mick asked, directing the question at everyone. "It is, isn't it? I don't get to go on a mission again until when?"

"This is not a mission," Rip told him. "We're going to a bakery." 

"Then why can't I go?" Mick asked again.

"Okay," Ray said with his usual honest demeanor, "it's because you're on probation."

Len got in the way of Mick charging at Ray. "Mick, we talked about what happened and even you agreed on some down time."

"For how long? It's been a month!" Mick stared at him. "I'm not a damn babysitter."

"Mick...."

"Fuck off." Mick stormed from the bridge.

"Wait here," Len told them. "I'll be right back." He went after Mick and turned him so they were facing. "Like I said, you agreed to this."

"I agreed to a lot of things, Snart. Like moving back into your room." Mick was fuming. "But every time I try to touch you, you back off like I've got some kind of disease."

"Mick, we're sleeping together again; that should tell you something."

"Yeah, sleeping - with a capital 'S'." 

They were arguing in front of Martin's quarters and the professor was being treated to an earful.

"What do you want from me, Mick?"

"I'd be happy to get a damn kiss!" 

"Fine." Len leaned in and placed his lips against Mick's; it was brief. "Happy now?"

"Am I happy now?" Mick stared at him incredulously. "No, I'm not!" 

Len was pulled forward and Mick gave him a deep kiss, forcing his tongue inside Len's mouth. 

"Stop." Len pushed him away. "Enough for now."

"What is your problem, Snart?" 

"We'll continue this later."

"Fuck later!" Mick shook his head. "I'm moving back to **my** room." He was growing beyond angry. "You don't want to kiss me, you don't want to touch me, so I have to assume you don't want to fuck either!" And then he continued on down the corridor.

"I'll bring you back a rhubarb pie!" Len called after him.

He got a middle finger in response.

Martin's door opened.

"Not again," Len muttered to himself; he really didn't want to deal with Stein and his little 'talks' at that moment.

"Could you please make up with him?"

"We did."

"Yes, so I heard. Great job the two of you are doing," Martin replied with more than just a hint of sarcasm.

Len opened his mouth and what came out was, "We're going to get pie." He went back to the bridge.

Martin stared after him and then headed back to bed. "2166 and they still haven't found a cure for the flu."

**~~~~~~~~~~**

After sleeping for an hour Martin wandered to the kitchen, finding Mick there brewing tea.

"You want a cup, Stein?"

"You drink tea?"

"As a matter of fact, I do."

"Yes, I'll take one."

"Look, Stein, I know you don't need a keeper, but they stuck me with you."

"Just make the tea, Mister Rory, and I like it with honey."

"Certainly, sweetheart," Mick cracked.

"Your sense of humor needs work."

"Whatever." Mick prepared both cups and they sat there in silence for a few minutes.

"Your partner," Martin started, "is on a guilt trip of immense proportions."

"I don't think so," Mick stated emphatically. "He's being a little shit."

"That may very well be, but it doesn't change the facts."

"You've been talking to him, haven't you?"

"We've had a few conversations, but I also overheard your little...spat...before he left." Martin sipped at his tea. "Perhaps when he returns you can make up." He had said the same thing to Leonard, so maybe they would both finally do it. For some reason it bothered him that these two men were still locked in some sort of emotional battle. "Relationships are very difficult. I've been married 40 years and they do take work from **both** parties involved."

"And this means?"

"Communication, Mister Rory, it's a simple thing."

"Fine." Mick stared at his cup. "When he comes back I'll try to **communicate** better."

"Thank you, Mick."

"You called me Mick."

"My excuse is I'm ill."

Mick couldn't help laughing at that.

"May I make an observation?"

"Could I stop you, Stein?"

"You and Mister Snart are, shall we say, immoral criminals."

Mick was in the middle of drinking and paused, putting his cup down. "I really hate when people mince words; it's annoying as hell."

Martin nodded to him. "Between the two of you, you've committed numerous crimes and the list of your victims is...rather high."

"Somebody's been doing their homework." Mick finished his tea. "For the record we never killed anybody who was innocent."

"Never?"

"So maybe a few times - or more," Mick admitted. "It's what's known as collateral damage." He looked Martin in the eyes. "And just so you know, Stein, we never hurt a kid or an animal. Anything else...." He just shrugged. "Shit happens - deal with it."

"I see." Martin couldn't help smiling. "Do I have to be concerned that Raymond - or any of us for that matter - will become a victim at some point?"

"Haircut is number one on my list." Mick gave him a closed-mouth smile, which vanished as quickly as it appeared. "What Len and me were - and what we are now - are two different things."

"Then you're not as cold-blooded as you used to be?"

"Still watching your words." Mick shook his head and sighed. "Can we still commit..." he smirked, "...reprehensible acts of violence? Yeah, if we have to - no problem with that."

"Have to?" Martin tilted his head in a questioning gesture.

"You see things and they affect you." Mick averted his eyes. "You don't want them to, but they still do."

"As Chronos?"

"There's things you can't imagine, Stein, even in your worst nightmares." Mick was clearly disturbed. "I told Len as much as I could remember and it scared the shit out of him."

"If you'd care to talk about it, I'm willing to listen."

"It's your funeral." Mick got up and took a bottle of bourbon out of a cabinet, placing it on the table.

"I'm not much of a drinker, Mick."

"Trust me," Mick said with certainty, "you're gonna need it." The (slightly) evil smile was back. "And when you start waking up at night in a cold sweat, blubbering like a fucking baby, don't come running to me."

Martin closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, Mick was gone.

"I guess he went for shot glasses," Martin mused. "I would have been happy to use my teacup."

Martin waited but Mick didn't return, so he figured Mick had changed his mind. 

In their short conversation he realized he had gotten more words out of Mick Rory than the man usually used; as a norm, people (except for perhaps Leonard Snart) got **maybe** three complete sentences, tops.

They could talk at a later time; it's not like they weren't going to have the opportunity.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

The team entered the Waverider at the same moment Martin came onto the bridge.

"How are you feeling, Marty?" Sara asked.

"It's Martin," he corrected her as always, "and much better."

"We brought you sponge cake." Jax handed him a box. "I know you like it."

"Thank you, Jefferson." Martin walked over to Len. "Leonard, all I see in your hands is a bag."

"Chocolate chip cookies," Len opened the bag and inhaled. "Kendra was right; that bakery is perfection." He took something out of his pocket.

"You robbed them?" Jax stared at the wad of cash. 

Len could only grin. "It's not my fault they left the cash register open." 

"How could you?" Kendra seemed to shame him.

"It's what I do." Len made a sour face at her. "It's not like I shot anybody."

"You were going to!" Jax said quickly. "I saw when they said they were out of oatmeal raisin cookies."

"I like oatmeal raisin."

"You brought a gun?" Rip asked him.

Len lifted his shirt, showing the pistol tucked into his waist. "Don't leave home without it."

Martin looked around. "Who has the pie?"

"It's here." Ray held boxes stacked on top of one another. "We're going to have a pie eating contest later."

"Yes," Rip added, holding his own stack. "And I intend to win."

"Wonderful." Martin looked at the boxes. "Which one is the rhubarb?"

"I didn't know you wanted rhubarb," Jax said. "We have cherry, apple, coconut custard...."

"I don't, but Mister Rory did and it was promised in exchange for him staying with me."

"Who?" Len asked.

"Don't be flippant, Leonard," Martin scolded. "No matter what, you should have brought him the pie."

"Look, Stein," Len started, "like the kid said, if you wanted rhubarb you should have said so. Then you could have shared with your imaginary friend."

"I had an imaginary friend once." Ray grinned. "His name was Albert. But Rory is good also."

"So you're all in on this?" Martin 'tsk'd'. "Very nice; how **mature**."

"In on what?" Kendra asked. "And I think Rory is a nice name for an imaginary friend," she smiled.

Something was nagging at Martin; Kendra didn't normally go along with these things. "Raise your hand if you know Mick Rory."

"Who the hell is Mick Rory?" Sara asked. 

"Oh my...." Martin said to himself. "Gideon?" 

"Yes, Professor Stein?"

"Does this team currently include eight people?"

"Yes, Professor. Rip Hunter, Jefferson Jackson, Sara Lance, Raymond Palmer, Mick Rory, Kendra Saunders, Leonard Snart, and you, Martin Stein."

"There are only seven members, Gideon." Rip gave Kendra a brief glance. "We did have eight, but Carter Hall...."

"That is incorrect, Captain Hunter."

"Gideon, run a self-diagnostic on your memory," Rip told her.

"I do not need to, Captain Hunter," Gideon replied. "There are eight current crew members."

"Is Mick Rory aboard the Waverider?" Martin asked.

"No, he is not."

Martin's next question was, "Where is he?"

"Mick Rory does not exist in the current timeline."

The words piqued Rip's attentions. "Gideon, what do you mean by 'current'?"

"Mick Rory's existence ceased one hour and 43 minutes ago."

"How did this happen?" Martin asked, wringing his hands. 

"There has been an anomaly within his timeline," Gideon announced.

Rip began to pace and it was clear he was thinking. "If there was even a minor change to the timeline, we would have been affected outside the Waverider," he explained. "However, unless the timeline has been **permanently** altered and cannot be corrected, everything aboard would remain as it was."

"That's how Gideon knows Mick Rory existed," Martin surmised aloud, "and how I retained my memory of him."

"Exactly. Now I am going to speak with Gideon to see if we can determine what happened to this Mick Rory person," Rip said, "before too much time passes and the change becomes finalized. When and if that happens, even your memory will be altered, Professor Stein." He paused. "We will not be leaving 1970 until this is sorted out."

**~~~~~~~~~~**

"What can you tell us about this guy?" Kendra asked.

"Well, he's..." Martin hesitated, "...he's Mick Rory." He didn't know how to explain why they had a pyromaniac/arsonist as part of the team, and he certainly wasn't going into Chronos. If they heard that they might decide they were better off leaving him non-existent. This, despite everything, was wrong on more levels than Martin Stein cared to think about.

"Am I friends with this Rory guy?" Jax asked.

"Yes." Martin smiled thoughtfully. "He has a soft spot for you and has said a few times - mostly when he's been drunk - that you're like a little brother." 

Next was Kendra. "He likes you as well and he's said you're a damn good pool player."

"And me?" Sara asked.

"You and he, Ms. Lance, have a love-hate relationship." Martin couldn't help laughing out loud. "You love him because he brings you chocolates and your favorite vodka when he can, and you drink together. You hate him because he's the only person you've ever sparred with who has actually taken you down on a few occasions."

"Hmmpph!" Sara huffed.

"I said a few," Martin clarified. "We all know size doesn't matter, and in Mister Rory's case it's not the fact that he has somewhere in the vicinity of 150 pounds of solid muscle and eight inches on you. It's the fact that he not only fights dirty, but you have also described him as "amazingly quick for his bulk"." What remained unsaid were the techniques Mick had picked up as Chronos; Martin had no idea of how to explain that. He only knew about Mick winning their little 'sessions' because Sara tended to bitch about it. "You have taught him about your weapons and he has educated you on basic boxing and wrestling techniques, and the art of what he calls street-fighting. Oh, he also refers to you as a badass and you refer to him as a - and I quote - "mother fucking asshole"." 

Sara snorted. "This guy sounds like he was - is - a friend."

"And me?" Ray asked, with that big grin of his. "Are he and I friends?"

"Raymond," Martin placed his hand on Ray's shoulder, "I can unequivocally state that you and Mick Rory have a...unique friendship." When Mick saved him in that Russian Gulag, Martin had wondered if Mick had saved Ray because he didn't want to lose his "chew toy"; Mick loved to torment him. But over time and despite the threats Mick gave him, Mick also had a special nickname for Ray - "Haircut" - and he had also assisted Ray on a few occasions with the Atom suit. He may not have been book-smart, but Mick Rory was some sort of savant when it came to anything mechanical.

"And you, Professor?" Jax asked. 

"Mick Rory is the worst SOB I have ever encountered." Martin's thoughts went from the start of their journey to the pirates to Chronos. He was a man who could kill with his bare hands (unfortunately Martin had seen that firsthand), but the friendship Mick had forged with Jefferson had shown Martin that the man had some type of good in him - very little, but some. And then his mind wandered to their little conversation in the kitchen. "But he's had his moments." 

"And Rip?" Kendra asked.

"They have issues," Martin stated honestly, "but that is between them and I wouldn't know how to describe it anyway."

"What about me?" Len asked. "Do I get along with this guy?"

"Mister Snart, walk with me."

Len followed him out. "Are you going to tell me or do I have to guess?"

"Words are not enough; I feel I have to show you."

**~~~~~~~~~~**


	2. Who Are You, Mick Rory?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In their room, Len finds clues about the identity of Mick Rory.

Martin finally stopped in front of Len's room.

"My room - and?"

Martin opened the door and they walked inside. "What do you see?" 

Len looked around. 

It was definitely his room; he remembered it. 

His table had his current book (a history of serial killers - Len was unimpressed with their work, he thought they were all amateurs), his cold gun (which he had been working on), a can of Pepsi (now warm and flat), a half-eaten Milky Way and a shot glass. He did a doubletake at the shot glass - he had no idea how it got there.

There was a dresser and he knew his clothes were in there, all folded neatly and organized. His two laundry baskets were in the corner, with his dirty items all separated and ready for the wash. 

Then he got a look at the other side of the room - which looked like a tornado had hit it.

A table - which he didn't remember - was crowded with a magazine called 'Tactical Knives', a gun similar to his own (with tools beside it), a half-eaten sandwich (tuna - Len hated tuna), two empty beer bottles, a bottle of tequila, one shot glass, a half-smoked joint, a lighter, matchbooks (Len noticed the matches had all been burned in their books) and a few candy wrappers. 

There was another dresser and Len opened the drawers, finding clothes in no semblance of order - the top drawer had underwear and shirts stuffed inside, the middle had socks and two pairs of gloves, and the bottom had a few pairs of pants just tossed in.

There were no laundry baskets on that side, just a large pile of clothing.

"Okay, Stein, so I share with someone."

"Yes, you obviously do, and do you remember Mister Rory at all now?"

"I have no idea who he is." Len threw his hands up. 

"Look around some more." Stein took a seat.

There was a small closet and Len's parka was hanging there as always, his gloves placed one in each side pocket, his goggles neatly tucked into the top pocket.

On the other side of the closet there was another coat - this one was beige and hanging haphazardly and there was a pair of goggles wrapped around the top of the hanger and a pair of gloves in one of the pockets. Len also noticed the clear odor of burning embers.

Len next walked into the bathroom, which was small, and as far as he remembered, the counter held his toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash, razor, shaving cream and a comb.

What he found were two toothbrushes, two different toothpastes, two razors (his electric and also a straight razor) and two cans of shaving cream, plus a few boxes of bandages, a shitload of first aid cream and some aftershave. Len sniffed it and held it away from his nose - it smelled like radishes. A quick look in the shower area revealed washcloths (plural), a loofah, some towels, a bar of soap (Len's brand - plain Ivory) and some watermelon body wash (that was a mystery - Len hated watermelon).

Leonard Snart was completely baffled and when he came out he stared at Martin, wanting more answers.

"Your confusion is apparent." Martin needed to point out one last thing. "What else do you see in this room?"

Len looked around, taking everything in. "We're roommates and he's a slob." 

"Mister Snart - Leonard - how dense are you?"

It took Len a moment to spot it - there was one bed. "We're...together?"

"Yes, you are," Martin nodded. "From what I've gathered, you've been - together - for 30 years."

"I'm only 40-...something," Len smirked.

"I don't think you've been..." Martin waved his hand toward the bed, "...that long, but your friendship dates back to 1986."

"That's when I went to juvie," Len said to himself.

"You were almost...shivved, I believe the phrase is?" Martin queried. "What happened after?"

"Some guys picked a fight and I **was** shivved...." Len stopped talking; he had to think for a moment. "I got taken to the infirmary and for the rest of the time I was there I got beaten up quite a bit." He leaned against the wall, arms folded, lost in his thoughts. 

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. No." Len pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't...it's murky, like my brain is swimming. Things aren't making sense!" He was silent and thought some more for a good two minutes before he punched his fist against his palm. "I know I was taken to the infirmary by a guard, but I'm having thoughts...I wasn't hurt. Some big kid showed up, spooked the other kids and he smiled a bit sarcastically, telling me if I wasn't so..." Len laughed, "...so damn pretty it never would have happened."

"That would be Mick Rory." Martin went to the door. "I am going to see Captain Hunter. Maybe he's figured out what occurred and how to repair it."

"You do that." Once Len was alone his mind began to wander; it didn’t happen often, usually he was totally focused. He went back over to the table across the room, studying what was on it.

A knife magazine - that was weird in itself. Len wasn’t much into knives; not that he didn't make use of them, he just preferred a gun. "But it’s not yours, Leonard; it’s this guy Mick’s." 

He tossed the tuna sandwich, hoping it didn’t stink up the room - and then remembered Gideon emptied their waste baskets.

The beer bottles and the tequila seemed to make sense and he lit what was left of the joint with the lighter, but the burned matchbooks - most guys who did that kind of shit were psycho pyro’s; Len didn’t mind them as long as they knew what they were doing with the fire - unfortunately most didn't. But this Mick couldn't be that kind of man. Len would in no way get involved with a nut job; he had enough problems.

The gun was interesting though. Yes, it was similar to Len’s in design and he figured Mick Rory was into cooling things down like he was. It wasn’t difficult to figure out how it worked and he pointed it at the waste basket. "Holy shit!" The pail went up in flames **very** fast - nothing left but a pile of ash. (There was no way for Len to know that Mick had been in the midst of fine-tuning his gun; it didn’t usually do that…so quickly.) "Apparently he **is** into fire. So I guess I did lose my fucking mind."

"Mister Snart, since I am aware that Mister Rory is not here, can I assume you have once more been using his heat gun without permission?" Gideon asked. "If you would care to have a _weenie roast_ again, please do it outside the ship."

"He made the hot dogs; I toasted marshmallows." Len blinked in bewilderment, puzzled by his words. When did he do that?

"That is irrelevant," Gideon continued. "It is the same as Mister Rory using your cold gun to make popsicles and to chill beer, and to turn Mister Palmer’s room into, as Mister Rory called it, _Santa’s Winter Wonderland_."

"My cold gun is **not** a toy!" Len snapped at the AI. "I told Mick…." He stopped mid-sentence. How could he have said something to a non-existent person?

"I believe he said the same to you about his heat gun," Gideon responded.

"Just what the world needs - a smarmy computer." Len sometimes wanted to revert to six and blow a raspberry at her. "Maybe we should change your name to Skynet."

"I will let that remark go, Mister Snart." Gideon's voice had a slight lilt to it. "Since you are here and doing nothing else, do you wish to continue sorting through the photographs so they will be available on digital copy?"

"What photographs?" Len asked. 

"The ones in Mister Rory’s bottom drawer." Considering she was an artificial intelligence, Gideon sounded edgy. "If Captain Hunter discovers that I have been assisting you in something trivial he will not be happy about it."

"Then why are you?" Len went to the dresser. 

" **You** asked nicely. If only Mister Rory was as polite as opposed to insisting I do things as I am the ship's _humble servant_."

"We’re working on Mick’s manners," Len told her, and then shook his head as if to clear it. "What the hell am I talking about?"

"You were speaking about Mister Rory’s lack of politesse."

Opening the drawer Len found a box under the pants. It contained photos of him and another guy. "Is this Rory?"

"Yes, it is," Gideon replied.

Some were black and white, from when Len was younger, some with Lisa, and a few when they were older. He laughed a little when he noticed that over time he had grown to the point that Rory no longer towered over him. Len also noticed that in the pictures he was smiling. A natural smile, not the forced one he gave when there were "photo-ops" with his father. Len was relaxed, almost peaceful, as if he didn't have a care in the world.

Rory appeared to be rather imposing, but there was something about his eyes when they were focused on Len; they seemed gentle and caring. 

If those photos had anything to say, this Mick Rory person had been a major part of Len's life and had made an impact.

"We’ll work on it later, Gideon."

"Acceptable, Mister Snart."

Len had a brief flash of something in his mind - bright flames; just a blazing fire in the sky. He lay down and draped his arm over his eyes. 

He didn't notice he was slowly dropping off into sleep.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Tactical Knives_ is an actual magazine.


	3. Memories Of A Life Never Led

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Len is hit with a barrage of memories involving a man who doesn't exist - and the start of both their criminal partnership and personal relationship. (In which the author gives her own detailed version of how things started)

Len woke from a horrific nightmare, wherein he had been kidnapped by Robocop (well, it reminded him of Robocop - only more frightening and deadlier) and lost his right hand. He immediately reached over to the other side of his bed to grab...something...but there was nothing there. Forcing himself out of bed he went to the washroom, splashing his face with cold water. He was on his way back to bed when he realized he had murmured to himself when he woke up....

"Mick."

Len went for the box of photos and sat on the bed, opening it; he was genuinely fearful he was going to have some kind of "Back to the Future" moment where Mick's face was faded away, but it was still there. 

Memories that couldn't possibly exist filled his mind - first one, then two, then five and then he got a sharp pain in his head, as if someone stuck a knife in his brain. 

The memories snapped into place so quickly he thought his head was going to explode.

He had known Mick Rory for 30 years.

"Mick." Len said his name out loud.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

_First meeting when Len was 14._

_He had been 'Leo'._

_First kiss at 15, behind the guard tower, out of sight of prying eyes._

_By then he was going by 'Len'._

_First "field trip" when Len was 16 and they were both out of juvie; he forced Mick to go to the library. Len liked it there; it was quiet and he explained that just because they had both dropped out of school (neither finished 10th grade) didn’t mean they couldn’t still learn. It was also the lone place Len ever threatened him - if Mick dared to light a match near a book, he would shove it down Mick's throat._

_Mick left his matches and Zippo at home when they went; it was the **only** place he was ever without either - he didn’t need any temptation. And Mick learned to like the library also; over time he amassed a Hardy Boys collection - without checking them out at the front desk._

_First job together, four days before Len turned 17 - robbing a restaurant. And along with the money, Mick had demanded two racks of ribs, a baked potato and a six-pack._

**~~~~~~~~~~**

"Mick."

_Len tried to show what a cool guy he was and downed three bottles of beer in succession; Mick cleaned him up after he threw up._

**~~~~~~~~~~**

_Len wanted to go to bed with Mick. Yes, he liked girls, but there was something about Mick that turned him on and he told Mick how he felt._

_Mick didn't deny a mutual attraction but no matter how much Len begged and pleaded, Mick refused to take him to bed before he was legal - that opened up a whole different **can of worms**._

_Their first time was the day after Len turned 18._

_It had been quick and sloppy, in some fleabag rent-a-room-by-the-hour motel, with no penetration; just Mick going down on him and rubbing off against each other._

_A few days later Lewis found out about him and Mick in that motel; how, Len didn't know. There were threats by his father to harm Mick - Lewis knew people._

_Lewis got angry about it while he was drunk; he called Len a "fucking faggot" as he beat his son. Len spent two weeks in the hospital and his father's explanation to the doctor's was a beating by some street thugs._

_Len kept his distance for two years, refusing to meet with Mick, until fate brought them together again._

_Iron Heights when Len was 20 - assault; he busted a guy's skull during a bar fight - and they were put together as cellmates; apparently nobody had thought to check the records and were aware they knew each other._

_Mick asked why Len had refused to see him; Len finally told him._

_Knowing that Mick would go after Lewis, Len warned him off. If anything happened to his father, Lisa would end up in foster care and he would never see her again._

_Mick had met little Lisa a few times and had developed a fondness for her; he reluctantly agreed._

_They made their first prison break 19 days later and ended up in Georgia._

**~~~~~~~~~~**

"Mick."

_Len finally made an impression on Mick when he managed to steal a guard's uniform and walked Mick right out the front gates._

**~~~~~~~~~~**

_The first time they had actual sex was two days after their escape in a half decent motel room outside Atlanta. Mick bought lube and a box of condoms. He just turned Len onto his stomach, did quick preparation and fucked him twice. There were no words of endearment, no post-sex hugs - just the fucking and Mick going to sleep right after._

_Len returned home - Lisa needed him - but he kept a low profile. If he was caught it would have been straight back to Iron Heights._

_Lewis, however, made a payoff and the escape was wiped from his son's record._

_Len got a rough beating and he took it; he always took it - he never defended himself. He had grown up with fear of his father and no matter how old he was or how big he got, that childhood fear remained._

_He ran into Mick again a few months later and they hooked up once more._

_Lewis was in jail and Lisa was with their grandfather - she was safe._

_Their first real job as "bona fide members of the criminal world" - Mick's words - happened a short time after Len turned 21. They robbed a bank in Baton Rouge - and lost the money gambling in New Orleans._

_When Len was 22 his grandfather died and Lewis was released from prison. Len walked into the house while he was beating on Lisa and tried to stop it; he got his ass kicked._

_Lisa told him to leave, she would survive, but if anything were to happen to her brother, she couldn't live with that._

_Len did as she asked and he returned to Mick - and Mick’s bed._

_At 23 Len got to see Mick making use of fire for the first time - not just playing with a lighter and making threats._

_Two guys in the crew they had hooked up with had gotten the drop on Len and attempted to rape him._

_Mick interrupted them._

_Len shot one of the men in the head. It was the first time he had killed someone and the only feeling he got was satisfaction. There was no remorse, no guilt - nothing._

_Mick tied the other to a chair, doused him with a bottle of whiskey and lit him up - along with the building._

_They stood together on a nearby rooftop, watching it burn, the flames taking hold of two adjacent buildings._

_The sex had been spectacular._

_To celebrate Len's 24th birthday they perpetrated a fraud scheme on some wealthy men - which paid off very well._

_The money went into a bank account for Lisa._

_At the age of 25, after a sexual marathon that began after dinner and lasted until dawn, Len said "I love you."_

_He woke up alone._

_At 26 Len tried to go straight. He got married in Las Vegas to some waitress he met in a diner; he'd known her all of five hours._

_At 26.5 Len got divorced in Reno after he and his wife had a knock-down drag-out that put them both in the emergency room._

_On Len's 27th birthday Mick showed up and acted as if they had never been apart. In celebration of being back together they robbed a bank in Seattle and then headed down to Southern California with the money, spending time acting like tourists - and then they got bored._

_On the second night Len shot the night manager at a fancy hotel (the man wouldn't shut up about the police) and he had a good time working the front desk while Mick emptied out every safe deposit box, and afterwards they decided to rob all the rooms they could get through before dawn._

_Len and Mick didn't kill any guests, although they did tie them up, and they both received offers of sexual favors (and beer) from a roomful of college co-ed's (whom they didn't rob). They accepted the beer, but declined the sex; Len was polite and apologized, but he explained they were on a schedule._

_At 2:25AM they entered a suite and ended up arguing with two married couples who were also there to rob the place. After 20 minutes, a fistfight, and everyone drawing guns, they agreed to split the floors._

_They spent their third night having sex on the beach and Len nearly blurted out those three little words again, but he was careful to keep his mouth shut this time. He did not want to lose Mick again._

**~~~~~~~~~~**

"Mick."

_Len remembered laughter but also the pain he felt in his heart when Mick left him; he had felt like some damsel in a stupid romance novel, abandoned by his one true love. And if never saying the words again would keep Mick with him, then his mouth would stay shut._

**~~~~~~~~~~**

As the memories took hold, Len held his head; it was as if jackhammers were pounding inside it.

He was involved with a man who was never born; they committed countless crimes together - they were lovers. 

Len buried his face in his hands; he felt his eyes watering. "What the hell is happening to me?!" He shouted, wiping his face. "Who are you Mick Rory?" He looked around the room. " **Where** are you?" Len's stomach growled and he thought that maybe he would feel better if he ate something. Before he headed to the kitchen he rinsed his face; he didn't need anybody to know he had been crying.

He noticed various foods and placed a slice of meatloaf on his plate, adding sides of broccoli and green beans. "Vegetables are an important part of every meal."

"You hate them," Jax pointed out. "You call anything green the devil's food."

"This is true." Len nodded to his plate. "Why **am** I eating this?"

"Because you get lectures from Mister Rory about your eating habits," Martin explained. "He says you don't eat enough and even though he has never stated it outright, it is quite clear he worries about you."

"What?!" Len stared at him as if he was crazy.

"Mick Rory likes to eat healthy - strange but true," Martin continued, "and as long as he has meat as his main course - and it's well done, although I say burned to a crisp - all is well at meal time."

"Fuck this and fuck Rory, whoever the hell he is!" Len threw the plate across the room and fled the kitchen.

Martin went after him. "Leonard...."

"This ship has done something to me." Len's eyes were wild. "It's making me hallucinate; that's got to be it." Confident that was the only explanation, he returned to his room. He did not want to be around anyone right now. 

Len opened a candy bar, but he didn't eat it. He knew he should be eating something more substantial, but he once again had no clue why. 

He saw a Henley draped across the chair and picked it up; it was familiar. 

There was that same odor of something charred that he had smelled in the closet. 

It was the very essence of Mick Rory.

**~~~~~~~~~~**


	4. A Further Walk Down Memory Lane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Len has more memories of his life with Mick and their criminal endeavors - which are many. Also, Len and Mick are violent bastards - but still lovable. (And the author goes into even more details of their lives.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even in canon Len and Mick have been criminals for **years** so I find it difficult to believe that they only committed crimes in Central City and the surrounding areas.

Len slid to the floor, holding Mick's Henley against his chest as if it was a lifeline.

Words flew into his mind: Home, safe, protected, friendship, passion, lust...love.

So many thoughts - memories - began to flood his brain again.

Len couldn't stop them and this time, he wasn't trying to.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

_After California Len and Mick returned home._

_Two years later, including one short prison sentence (Len didn't get a chance to execute what he thought was a fabulous prison break plan - somebody messed up the paperwork and they were released and it was all legal), when Len was 29 and Mick 31, they got sick and tired of Central City and the surrounding areas._

_Len decided it was time to branch out to other places and when Mick was watching a James Bond movie they agreed - spur of the moment - on Europe._

_Lisa was living on her own and away from Lewis (who was back in prison anyway) so Len felt safe in leaving._

_They spent the proceeds of a robbery on forged passports so they could go; they had heard from others that there was plenty of work to be had there, and they could disappear and move from country to country. Within two months they had participated in three jobs and then they were hired by some people in London, but the job went south and the crew nearly got nabbed by the cops. They were blamed and cut out of their share of the profits. Len tried to reason with the crew and pointed out if they had taken his suggestions things would have gone smooth. The guy in charge got pissed at Len's attitude and had two of his men take Len and Mick outside to kill them._

_Big mistake._

_The two men ended up dead and Len and Mick casually strolled back in._

_Len shot two others and Mick slit the main guy's throat. They took the money and left, but not before Mick set everything ablaze._

_Three days later they arrived in Paris and set their sights on the Mona Lisa. No, they couldn't sell the painting, they knew that; no 'fence' would touch it._

_Len and Mick were going to hang Da Vinci's masterpiece on a wall so they could look at her whenever they felt like it._

_However, the security at The Louvre was different than anything they had ever encountered; it was far more advanced than other museums they had robbed and the two were far from prepared._

_Len promised Mick that one day they would own her; it would just take time._

_They were back in the states a short time later and after the fiasco in London they took charge of their own jobs; Len hand-picked the crews._

_Len planned everything with meticulous skill and their first job upon their return was a nice heist in Denver._

_As usual they blew the money._

_Their attitude was, "If you got it, spend it." Ten percent automatically went into an account for Lisa, but the remaining proceeds tended to go, as always, to short-term stays in nice upscale hotels (which they usually ended up robbing), alcohol (Len had developed a taste for **very** expensive wines - Mick couldn't understand him buying an $800 bottle of Chardonnay), drugs (much to Len's irritation Mick pretty much did **anything** that didn't involve a needle in his arm) and whores (when Len and Mick had fights both withheld sex from the other), with some gambling as well. _

_Instead of living in some nice penthouse apartment they constantly ended up in some shithole with rats for housemates._

_Then they took off for Europe again._

_At 33 and 35 respectively, they found themselves in a German prison - which was the equivalent of Hell. The place was a nightmare of epic proportions. On the bright side, they were only in for five days._

_Len conned his way into the infirmary with stomach cramps, got the doctor to believe Mick was sick also and they were transported to a local hospital - which they walked out of an hour later._

_But after a mess in Spain (who knew there was a thing called 'Running with the Bulls' in Pamplona and that Mick would get stoned on some bad shit and decide to participate and end up in a hospital? Len was happy though - after that Mick **did** stop using hard drugs) and a disaster in Italy (trying to steal something from the Vatican was a **REALLY** stupid idea) they returned to the United States, although they did not relegate themselves to one particular area. They had 49 **different** areas they could drive to, plus they could always pop up to Canada. (Mexico was out - two weeks in jail in Guadalajara was more than enough)._

_And their reputations grew; the criminal world (not to mention local police departments, the Feds and the Mounties) became well aware of the names Snart and Rory._

_Their crimes ran the gamut of **everything**._

_Their personal favorite was armed robbery (numerous banks - they lost count, a few armored cars - those were **very** difficult to plan so it didn't happen often, jewelry stores - which became boring after a while, the occasional museum - Len had a fondness for art, and one Dunkin' Donuts - the place was out of chocolate frosted and Mick wasn't happy with his coffee). _

_There were a few kidnappings for quick cash (one woman had a bastard of a father who told them to keep her - they made a side deal with her and disposed of Dad (in a gruesome fashion - they took their cue from the saying 'Do not fold, spindle or mutilate') and once she inherited she paid them off)._

_One incident of hijacking (a bus - they had just robbed a bank and their car was stolen)._

_Arson (at this point Mick had 22 counts pending and when he heard the number it pissed him off; he said they were wrong and it should have been 28)._

_Fraud (that was always easy and fun - people could be so gullible)._

_There were two charges of indecent exposure - which they didn't talk about... **ever** \- and one charge of sexual assault, which was dropped. Some crimes Len and Mick would **never** commit. (They ultimately found the guy that committed the attack and made him suffer for quite some time, ending with the removal of one specific part of his body.)_

_Lastly there was homicide - the two had racked up quite a few bodies. Yes, the majority were of the "criminal element" but the authorities didn't differentiate - murder was still murder._

_As for further incarcerations, there was the little fact that the law couldn't make the felony charges stick; the two had alibis coming out of their asses that couldn't be shaken or disproved (how do you disprove a nun?) and witnesses refused to talk or disappeared without a trace._

_To the criminal underworld Leonard Snart became known as a man who didn't put up with stupidity in the people he hired; it didn't matter if you were male or female. He didn't discriminate on gender with his crews; he just looked for the right "talent". But if you screwed up and deviated from his plans you were lucky if you got away with a trip to the ICU._

_If you attempted to cheat him, set him up or turn him in to the authorities, he didn't take too kindly to that. Len would put a bullet in your head holding a gun in his right hand while he ate a sandwich with his left and he did it without any emotion and an icy glare._

_Len had an extremely sarcastic wit and was known for puns, but his temperament earned him a nickname suited to his basic personality._

_They began to refer to him as "Captain Cold"._

_Mick Rory was just as ruthless._

_Like Len he was skilled with a gun, but he got major satisfaction making use of a knife (actually any sharp object) and his favorite was using matches with a touch of gasoline or whatever other combustible liquid was available. But he wasn't completely sociopathic, despite what his psych evaluations stated. Mick was (overly) protective of Len and Len's sister Lisa._

_If you crossed Mick or tried to harm either Snart sibling, you hoped that Leonard Snart got to you first and shot you dead so you could go quickly; if Mick got to you first, the odds are you would be turned into ash - slowly - and he would drink a few beers while he watched you burn._

_One person who had worked as a member of Snart's crew described Mick Rory as a tsunami made of fire._

_He got the nickname "Heat Wave"._

**~~~~~~~~~~**

"Mick." 

So many thoughts were flowing through Len's mind; he was trying to put the pieces together, but it was so damn difficult. Mick Rory did not exist, so how could Len have had life experiences with him?

**~~~~~~~~~~**

_Over the years they split up, but they **always** came back together._

_Len was just past his 39th birthday when they had a stupid fight over a job they **both** fucked up. _

_Angry words - some never used before - were thrown at each other._

_After three weeks they ended up at each other's sides again._

_They now had their own steady band of crooks, which included - much to Len's pride - his sister Lisa._

_They eventually obtained their respective 'specialty' guns and began to live up to the names **Captain Cold** and **Heat Wave**._

_And their jobs grew more interesting - and more vicious._

_Leonard Snart intended to take over the criminal activity not only in Central City, but National City, Starling, Keystone and beyond, and he was going to do it with Mick Rory beside him._

_**The Rogues** (as they became known) took out numerous members of major crime families in all those cities; the crimes were described on the news as "barbaric, savage and merciless". At one murder scene the ME grew pale and walked out, sick to his stomach._

_Unfortunately now some of their crimes **could** be proven; new technologies (such as citywide CCTV) led to their downfall. But there was still the matter of the authorities catching them._

_Then The Flash came along; he was an annoyance and kept getting in the way of their 'work'._

_Mick had an idea for a job; Len told him it was a bad idea._

_Len gave in (he always gave in) and Mick ended up almost burned alive._

_Len was so angry (at himself or Mick, he was never sure) that for the first time he bailed on Mick._

_He got caught by The Flash after a job. If it wasn’t for Lisa, Len would have ended up in jail again._

_When Len **did** end up back in jail it wasn't for very long - Jesse and Mardon broke him out; Mick was still recovering and had 'gone underground' himself._

_Len got his criminal record erased and made a deal with the Flash to not kill any more innocent people - of course Len didn't consider anyone in the criminal world innocent so the bodies kept piling up._

_He took a bed partner while planning a job, but when the guy tried to sneak out with their take from the robbery, Len blew out his kneecaps and tossed him out a window - from the 14th floor._

_His next sex partner was a woman. After a diamond heist she decided she wanted them all and tried to stab him when (she thought) he was sleeping. Len did have a trace of chivalry within him; an honor code of sorts - he didn't kill women if he could avoid it. She ended up in a body cast._

_It took eight months but Mick returned to Len and they got together once again._

_Lewis Snart met his death at Len's hand._

_Afterwards Len, Lisa and Mick got drunk in celebration of Lewis' demise._

_Lisa went her own way._

_Len and Mick ended up in a hotel._

_Len saw all the scarring over Mick's body from the burns and for the first time in his life he felt guilt - Mick totally fucked with his emotions._

_Mick admitted it was his fault._

_They went to bed together and for a change it wasn't rushed. They took their time and they **finally** \- after 24 years of sleeping together - learned what the other truly enjoyed in bed._

_Len likened it to making love, but once again there was no way he would voice that thought._

_He had Mick back and Len intended to keep him._

**~~~~~~~~~~**

"Mick."

_Len should have said something so Mick knew; he shouldn't have been afraid anymore._

**~~~~~~~~~~**

_Rip Hunter showed up with some story about saving the future - the world - and convinced them they would be legends - they would become known as heroes._

_That idea became an absolute clusterfuck._

_One, they didn't get a chance to steal anything._

_Two, Len couldn't change his past._

_Three, Mick became Chronos and maybe it wasn't entirely Len's fault...except Len did blame himself._

_Four, he was still fighting with Mick and they hadn't had sex and that too was Len's fault because there was no reason not to and he had no fucking logical reason why they shouldn't be...fucking._

_He had indeed lost Mick, for good this time. The man didn't even exist for Len to make it up to him._

_If he hadn't abandoned Mick, if Len had insisted Rip return them to 2016, if they had turned down the offer in the first place...._

_So many fucking if's._

**~~~~~~~~~~**

Len felt a lump in his throat; Mick still had the ability to turn his emotions upside down and inside out.

And he now had 30 years worth of memories of a life he never led.

"Mick, I'm so fucking sorry." Len held the Henley so tight his knuckles were white; he was afraid to let go of it. "I didn't care about being some kind of hero; I wanted us to be legends. I wanted us to be remembered. I wanted...." He took a breath. "I. It was all about what **I wanted**. I never considered what you might want; I never asked." The guilt hit him like a slap in the face. "You would follow me anywhere and I knew it." He was slowly calming down. "I should have talked to you, Mick, instead of giving half-assed answers to your questions or avoiding them altogether."

Len knew Mick had been correct regarding so many things.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

_When Mick had confronted him about the reasons for their lack of intimacy, everything Mick had said was - in some ways - the truth._

_Len **had** thought of Chronos as a disease; he had thoughts that Mick was no longer Mick - that he was a complete stranger._

_Len had assumed sleeping together again would be a step in the right direction; that had failed on a monumental scale._

_Mick kissed him but the moment Len closed his eyes he saw the monster that had kidnapped him._

_He had enough awareness to know that the hatred he had seen in Chronos' eyes - and the lack of emotion in his voice - was the evil the Time Masters' had created and not Mick, yet Len had been unable to separate that from **his** Mick._

_The first time Mick touched him Len had been afraid Mick would revert and cause him real true pain; not the 'playful' pain they indulged in on occasion when they had sex, but the agonizing torture that Chronos could inflict._

_And as for sex in itself? That had been totally out of the question._

_Mick had tried that also and Len rebuffed him out of sheer panic._

_Len hadn't given Mick any real opportunities at redemption; he had passed judgment over his partner and found him guilty._

_How fucked up was that?_

**~~~~~~~~~~**

"I need one more chance with you, Mick, just one more," Len said aloud. "I need to make everything right with us again." 

**~~~~~~~~~~**

"Snart!"

Sara's voice came from the other side of his door and pulled Len from his thoughts.

Len picked himself up off the floor where he had been sitting. He didn't know how long he had been there, but it must have been a while because his legs were stiff.

"You need to come to the flight deck!"

"I'll be there in a minute!" Len shouted back. 

One more 'if' came to his mind.

What if they couldn't fix things and Mick Rory ceased to exist permanently?

"I'll probably end up in a straight-jacket," he laughed, but it was far from a happy sound. 

He changed his clothes and hoped that there was some solution.

It was only now he realized that without Mick, his life was worth nothing.

**~~~~~~~~~~**


	5. Damage Repaired

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It turns out that fixing the timeline was a simple process after all. Len is beyond overjoyed.

When Len arrived on the flight deck he found everyone there.

"We've located the time anomaly that caused Mick Rory's...non-existence," Rip explained. 

"Who did it?" Len asked, glaring at everyone.

"Actually," Rip explained, "we all did." He put his palm up. "When we were in West Virginia and we were on our way back here, the car Mister Snart...borrowed...overheated."

Everyone nodded.

"The man driving by who offered to go to a nearby phone and call a tow truck for us was Timothy Rory and he was on his way to a...chapel...to get married."

"Mick's father?" Len asked.

"Yes," Rip replied. "According to Gideon he should have gone straight there. But when we accepted his offer, we somehow caused him to be late for his wedding. His bride-to-be walked out when he didn't show up on time."

"He grew up outside Central City," Len blurted.

"His mother is from Kentucky and that's where Timothy Rory was headed so they could get married," Rip told them.

"So they never got married?" Jax shrugged at his own question.

"They did," Rip continued, "but not until March."

"Mick was born in October." Len did some figuring in his head. "If there was no wedding in January, he wouldn't have been conceived when he was supposed to be."

"How do you know that? And also where he grew up?" Rip asked him. "You don't even know him."

"You're wrong," Len said with an air of certainty. "I do know him; I know everything about him." He pointed to his head. "It's all in here."

Martin smiled at him. "You remembered."

"I did at that, but I have no idea how." Len moved his eyes around to everyone. "I've had a life with a man who never existed."

"So what do we do?" Martin asked.

"We go back and set things proper." Rip nodded to his crew. "Seats please."

The six prepared for their trip, but instead of taking his usual seat next to Jax, Martin sat next to Len. 

"Whatever happened between you," Martin said quietly, "make it right this time. I don't have enough aspirin to cope."

"You're a wise man, Stein."

Martin looked quite smug. "I know."

**~~~~~~~~~~**

It wasn't very difficult to put things right; it was, in reality, quite simple.

If only everything they did these days was.

They were careful not to contact their past selves, so they left it to Martin to contact them, and advise them to turn down any assistance for a tow truck.

Their past selves didn't question why and eventually they must have made it back to the Waverider, because right now their current selves were on the bridge and waiting for the timeline to right itself.

And they waited. And waited.

Twenty minutes passed and nothing happened.

"We fucked up," Len shook his head. "Something went wrong. Mick still doesn't exist."

Jax's face suddenly lit up. "Mick gave me porn for my birthday," he smiled, and then turned to Martin. "But I didn't watch it, I swear!"

Martin shot him a _'You have got to be kidding me'_ look.

"Oh yeah," Jax's face fell, "we have a connection."

"You remember him," Rip stated.

"I do," Jax now grinned. 

"He helped me fix that glitch on the Atom suit." Ray looked happy, but just as soon gave Martin wide-eyes. "But he loathes me with a passion; he threatened to cut out my kidneys and sell them to the highest bidder." He gulped. "He said he knows people on the black market."

"Just for that," Kendra was wearing a wicked smile, "I’m going to crush him at eight-ball for a long time to come."

Sara smiled also, but in a way they had never seen. "I think I'll bring the chocolate and vodka to our next sparring session." She nodded to herself. "Fucking asshole." But when Sara said the words, they were with a bit of affection.

"Meat," Rip murmured.

"Rip," Len said calmly, "how many guns do I own?"

Rip shut his mouth.

"So you all remember him," Len continued, "but where is he?"

The man in question entered the flight deck and he didn't look happy. 

"Where is it, Snart?" Mick snarled. "You promised me rhubarb pie for babysitting duty and I don't see one." He noticed everyone was staring at him. "I didn’t do anything - this time. Ask Stein. I behaved."

"Mick." Len said the name he had been murmuring for hours.

"I know my name."

"Mick." Len walked over to him, looked him over and poked him a few times as if to ensure himself that Mick was real; Len was also sniffing him.

"What now?" He took Len’s hand in his and pushed it away. "Why are you poking me? And smelling me?" He took a step back. "You're weirding me out here, Snart."

"Mick." Len stepped into Mick's personal space and palmed his face, brushing his lips over Mick's. He said "Mick" one more time before he gave him a kiss. It was deep and full of hunger.

"Len," Mick switched to his first name because yes, he was freaking out just a tiny bit, "what are you doing?" 

"You're real." Len drew him into another kiss and when Mick tried to break away, Len just put his all into it and wouldn't stop. 

It was difficult, but Mick finally managed to push him away. "Yes, Len, I’m real." He held Len at arm's length as Len kept trying to kiss him. "Did somebody give him happy meds? Because I want some, too."

"You were gone, Rory," Jax told him. 

"No I wasn't; I was right here."

"I mean gone as in wiped from existence," Jax further explained.

Mick's brow furrowed in confusion.

"This little group," Martin waved his arm about, "nearly delayed your parent's wedding so you were never conceived."

"You messed with my timeline?" Mick gritted his teeth. "Blinked me the fuck out of existence?" He looked like he wanted to kill them all and he zeroed in on Ray. "Was this **your** fault?"

"NO!" Ray shook his head. "It was him!" He pointed at Len.

"It's true," Kendra confirmed. "To make a long story short, Snart stole a car that died and your father nearly missed his wedding getting us a tow truck."

"Len?" Mick looked at him. "Is that the truth?"

"It is." Len nodded with a stupid grin. "But I remembered you, Mick."

"I was never born but you..." Mick was flustered, "...you...."

"I remembered **everything**." Once he noticed Mick's guard was down, Len launched himself at the object of his affections again. "I was wrong, you were wrong, we were both wrong - let's start over."

Whatever words were going to come out of Mick's mouth were swallowed by Len's upon his.

Len licked his lips when they broke apart catch a breath. "We need to make up. Lots of make-up sex. I want you to fuck me, Mick." 

"That was more than I needed to hear," Jax swallowed hard.

"That was more than **any** of us needed to hear," Martin added.

"I'd be happy to hear more," Sara piped up.

Len's mouth attacked Mick's again and he was grinding his hips forward and sniffing at Mick again. "You smell like watermelon and I love it."

"I thought you hated it." Mick was surprised. "You've been complaining about it for ages."

"I changed my mind and I love the radishes also." He managed to open Mick's pants and slipped his hand inside. "So fucking hard."

"Lenny...Len...." Mick whimpered as his cock was squeezed. "LEONARD!" He was having a hard time fending Len off; the man seemed to have more than two hands. "Bedroom, okay?"

"Too far." Len was trying to climb him and when Mick grabbed his ass, he managed to wrap his legs around Mick's waist, forcing Mick to hold him and he blew in Mick's ear. "I need you in me right the fuck now."

"All right." Mick nodded in defeat. "I give." He did his best to carry Len (not an easy task; the man was almost his height) across the bridge, straight to....

"That's my study!" Rip yelled. "You can't use it for that!" 

Mick stood Len on his feet and swept the desk clear.

"I've just gotten my papers organized!" Rip stared at them. "I have work to do!"

Mick ignored him and lifted Len onto the desk, licking into his mouth while he worked on opening Len's pants and taking down his own.

When they came up for air this time Len grabbed Mick's shirt by the collar and with a burst of adrenaline ripped it down the middle, pushing it off of Mick's upper body and then his own was off and tossed across the room. He slid his arms around Mick's neck and yanked him down, going for Mick's shoulder.

"OW! You bit me, you fucking vampire." 

"And you love it." Len's mouth was on the move once more and it was lips, tongue and teeth, plus the moans, which were getting louder.

As to which of them was moaning, that was a toss-up.

Mick was thankful Len was wearing sneakers so he could just pull them off. But even that simple task was a bit difficult because Len kept distracting him by reaching up to pinch his nipples.

"Get my damn pants off, Mick!"

"I'm trying, Len," he went for the button on Len's pants, "but you need to stay still!" 

Len slapped Mick's hands away and undid his own pants, lifting up so Mick could get them down and off; his underwear came off with them. He then pulled at Mick's pants until they dropped.

Mick didn't believe in underwear.

Martin glared at Jax. "You don't need to see this." 

"Why not?"

"I'll tell your mother."

"I'm outta here." Jax ran from the bridge.

Martin followed.

"It's porn come to life." Sara couldn't help but stare. "They're both so...."

"Oh yes," Kendra squee'd.

Mick had forgotten they were there. "Len, we got a fucking audience!"

"I don't care." Len pulled Mick down for another kiss.

Mick ducked his head. "I do." He glanced about the study. "Shut the door, Gideon, and you don't get to watch either."

"Yes, Mister Rory."

As the door slid closed they heard Ray whining.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

"Kendra...."

She grabbed Ray by the arm. "C'mon, Ray, let's go to bed." She dragged him from the bridge.

"I have my vibrator," Sara shrugged, and then she eyed Rip.

"No."

"Spoilsport." Sara went off to her room.

"I detest them both," Rip said to the air. "I despise everyone on this ship. I abhor even myself." He snatched up his pad, took a seat and began to read, hoping those two idiots would give him back his study soon.

**~~~~~~~~~~**


	6. The Best Part Of Breaking Up Is When You're Making Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Len and Mick **finally** make things right together.

"Mick, c'mon already." Len was touching Mick everywhere he could. "I want this."

"Can I get my damn shoes off?" Mick managed to step back and undo the laces, but the moment they were off and Mick's pants were fully removed, Len reached over and tugged Mick forward for more kisses. "Lenny, please," Mick groaned once he could get free, "let me breathe for a minute." 

"No." Len went for another kiss and it became a war of sorts; he refused to let Mick go.

Mick tore his lips away and put his palm up. "I know you want this, but I have to...." He looked around the room.

"You have to kiss Len," Len finished for him, trying to pull Mick back.

"And I will; I promise." Mick's eyes finally caught what he was looking for. "That'll work." He picked up a lamp. "Gotta hand it to Hunter; he likes his antiques."

Len glanced over at what Mick was holding.

"It's an oil lamp." Mick opened the base. "And it's full."

"And you need that why?"

"If you don't want me to use spit - which I know you don't usually like - then we'll need this for lube." Mick nodded to him. "Unless you **want** pain right now," he leered, licked his lips and gave Len a once over, "which is always fine with me."

"I'll take a rain check on the pain." Len was studying his partner. "Mick, are you sure **you** want this?"

Mick eyed him as if Len was an idiot; he didn't need words to convey, _We're naked, Len, and I'm hard as a rock; that should answer you._

Len gave him a hard stare; his non-verbal response was, _Yes, for a change actual words are required, thank you very much._

Mick chose to give him an answer - and nothing flippant. "Like you said, Len, we both fucked up. I…." He had always been lousy at mixing words and emotions, but what was it Stein said? Communication. "I missed you; being with you. It was fucking brutal; worse than when I didn't see you after I got burned."

"Mick, if you're just doing this for me, that's okay." Len placed his hand on Mick's face, his thumb sweeping down the cheek. "If you just want sex, that’s okay, too. I can do casual."

"No, Lenny, no casual - **never** casual." Mick leaned in to initiate the next kiss. He started out by tracing his tongue against Len’s lips before slipping inside his mouth. "Still so sweet," he murmured. "It always meant something; don't think it didn't."

"Since that’s the case…" Len bit his lower lip, "…I don't think we're going to need that oil just yet."

Mick didn't understand until Len pushed him backwards into the chair, dropping to his knees. 

"It's been so long since I had you like this, Mick." Len parted his lips and brought his mouth down, taking as much of Mick’s cock as he could; the man was big **everywhere** and Len had to take his time building up to deep-throat him, even after all these years. 

"Fuck yeah, Lenny; just like that." Mick caressed Len's nape, his cock sliding in and out of Len's mouth. He finally filled him and Mick's eyes drifted shut, his whole being focused on the feel of Len's tongue teasing while he sucked. "Ooh, what a nice mouth you got - so warm and so fucking wet." Mick was fucking into it and after a few minutes he had to watch. "Nothing like my dick sliding between those cocksucker lips of yours."

Len stopped for much needed air and placed soft kisses to Mick's abdomen. "Am I still your pretty boy?" He tongued his way down to Mick's inner thighs, licking and biting. "Tell me I am."

"Always, Len." He watched Len's lips return to his cock, his tongue twirling around the head, before he went down again. "Always so pretty and perfect." Mick felt his cock reaching the back of Len's throat. "Suck me, Len, like the whore you’ve always been." He held Len's head there, holding his cock deep, until he heard Len gagging; Mick immediately removed his hands. He knew the rules; the one time he didn’t pay attention he didn’t get laid for a week. 

A quick breath and Len met Mick’s eyes. "Wrong, Mick; a whore is paid. I’m your slut; I’m in it just for you." He brought his mouth to Mick's balls, lapping at them before he used his teeth. 

"So good, Len; so damn skilled with that tongue of yours." Mick leaned back in the chair, reclining a bit and lifting his ass so Len had more room.

Len took it as an invitation to bury his tongue in Mick's ass...while he jerked Mick's cock.

"Ahh...ahh, Len...you're gonna make me come."

"In my mouth, Mick." Len used his tongue to tease the length of Mick's cock. "Shoot all over my face." He rubbed his stubbled cheek against the sensitized skin. "All over me." Len was now placing soft kisses there as he moved back to the head. He sucked down about half, just enough so Mick could get his hand around and pump himself. And then he moaned. 

"FUCK YEAH!" Mick felt his orgasm ripping through him; he was coming and then he pulled back, finishing up like Len wanted, all over his lips and his face. "Damn...fucking damn...." Mick collapsed back into the chair, one hand resting on Len's head, sort of petting him, the other hanging limply at his side. "Damn, Lenny, you always did have a sinful mouth." 

Len lifted his face and he looked totally debauched; there was come dripping all over him. "Only for you, Mick." He drew his tongue along Mick’s cock. "Nobody else." He brought one of his hands up; it was covered in his own come - he'd jerked himself off while finishing Mick. 

Mick picked up what was left of his shirt and wiped Len's face and hands clean, and then used it to clean his own body off. He reached over to the bottle of brandy he saw on the hutch and opened it. "Drink."

Len did as he was told; Mick didn't like tasting come. Taking the bottle he sipped, swished it around his mouth and spit on the floor, and then followed with a deep swallow. 

"That's it, Lenny, get that taste out of your mouth and maybe I’ll kiss you." Mick began to stroke himself; his recovery time was still pretty quick. But he noticed Len was still drinking. "Len, that's enough; I don't want you drunk."

"It's delicious." Len took another deep drink. "I never had brandy before." 

"No more and we'll take it with us." Mick took the bottle away, but did take a swallow himself before he closed it. He took Len’s chin between his fingers and lifted his face so their mouths could meet. "C’mere." The kiss was gentle and full of passion, and yes, Mick had missed this so very much.

Len peered out from under lowered lashes and bit his lip, looking rather demure. "I want to sit on that huge cock of yours and I want you to fuck me until you collapse."

"You do?" Mick narrowed his eyes. "How much do you want it?"

"A lot." Len looked desperate. "So badly."

"Maybe I don't care." Mick fisted his cock. "I can get myself off again."

"It's been so long, Mick." Len shook his head. "I don't want to play begging games now."

"You get your way **this time** and I'm **not** going on a search for condoms." Mick dipped his fingers in the oil. "I'm taking your ass bare, so turn around."

Len did and bent himself over the desk, pulling his ass wide.

Mick slapped his ass and slipped a finger inside. "My dick is going to split you in two." He worked the finger in and out and then number two joined it, along with another (and harder) smack. "You just hold yourself open like that." He dipped his fingers again in the oil, opening Len as best he could for his cock, which was hard and standing straight up, and then he slicked himself. Mick slid one hand around Len's waist and pulled him backwards. "You ready for me now?" 

"God yes." Len winced as Mick pushed inside him; it had been a very long time.

"You okay, Len?" Mick held him in place. "I don't want to hurt you; you said you didn't want pain."

"No...I mean, yes, I'm okay - no, you're not hurting me." 

"You'll tell me if I do?" Mick was somewhat concerned; this position was not one they did often and Len never complained. He would only notice when Len slept on his stomach and didn't sit the next day.

"I will, Mick." Len rolled his hips, screwing himself down. "Please."

"Take it easy, Len." Mick kept things slow, holding onto Len and keeping control. "No rush; we'll get there." His fingers found a nipple and he rolled it, feeling it pebble beneath his touch. 

"Tell me again, Mick," Len whispered.

Mick knew what Len wanted to hear. "Pretty boy; too pretty for your own good."

Len was finally seated and he began to rock back and forth; there was some pain and he couldn't help the sharp gasp.

"Len?"

"It's fine, Mick; I'm just getting used to you again." Len evened his breathing. "I didn't know how much I missed this." He placed his hand over Mick's, holding it against his abdomen. "How much I missed **you**."

Mick kissed Len's nape and licked across to his shoulder, soft kisses to the skin, resting his head there. "Me too, Len." He leaned up to nibble on Len's earlobe with his teeth; it was one of Len's hot spots. 

Len lifted himself slightly and as he took Mick inside himself again his head fell back against Mick's shoulder. "Take, Mick - take what you want."

"I will at that." Mick bit Len's neck, pulling at the skin, sucking at one spot; he knew he would get killed for that - Len hated being marked. But right now either Len didn't notice - which was highly unlikely - or he didn't care. "We should have gone bareback a long time ago, Lenny." Mick soothed the bruise with a touch of his tongue. "Your ass is so damned hot; so fucking tight around my dick." His hands were everywhere, touching every bit of bare flesh, lifting Len and dragging him back down a little harder.

Len twisted a bit so he could reach and slide his arm around Mick's neck, turning his head for a kiss, his tongue finding its way into Mick's mouth and sucking it into his own. 

Mick drew back. "This is not going to work."

"What's not?"

"We need to move, Len." Mick lifted Len all the way off and urged him around so they were facing, repositioning Len's legs so they were stretched out along his sides, dangling off the chair behind him. "Much better." He growled and lowered Len down upon his cock. "Now I can see you." Mick held on to Len's hips, taking charge, using his upper body strength to lift Len up and down his cock, wringing moans of contentment and soft sighs from his partner. "You look like a fucking angel."

Len stared at him for a moment, slightly awed by Mick's choice of words.

"Yeah, you do, Len - fucking perfection." Mick worked a nipple with his teeth, but his eyes didn't move from Len's face. He nipped across to the other one, laving gently before he bit.

"MICK, FUCK YES!" Len was on fire - he loved when Mick played with them. He braced his hands on Mick's shoulders, writhing in his arms, holding on for the ride and clenched the muscles of his ass, holding Mick inside; he wanted Mick there forever. "Mick...oh God...." Len wanted to say those three words again, but he couldn't. He had enough presence of mind to realize he had just gotten Mick back; Len could not afford - emotionally or physically - to lose his lover **ever** again. "Not enough...need more."

Mick lifted him onto the desk and hooked his arms under Len's legs; he pulled Len forward and shoved back inside, waiting for Len to become more vocal.

"HARDER MICK! MORE!" Len had always been a screamer. "THAT'S ALL YOU'VE GOT?!"

"YOU ARE SUCH A COCKSLUT!" Mick could be loud also. 

Len dug his nails into Mick's chest, scratching downwards, leaving red streaks in the skin; Mick always did enjoy a bit of pain.

"FUCK, LENNY! SO DAMN GOOD!" 

Reaching up to Mick's biceps, Len sunk his nails in again and was rewarded by Mick's moans and harder thrusts. He scraped down Mick's arms so hard he left deep welts.

"ENOUGH!"

Len knew when to listen and dropped his hands. 

"That's it, Len; glad you remember who's in charge when we're fucking." Mick wrapped his hand around Len's cock; it was leaking pre-come and Len wouldn’t need much to push him over the edge. He lowered his voice, almost to a hushed tone. "Do you want permission to come, pretty boy?"

That stupid pet name - when used in that distinct sensual undertone - drove Len insane with desire. "Please Mick...." It had been a long time since Mick had driven him to this point; his pleasure was bordering on pain. "PLEASE!" He was clawing at the desk, looking for purchase. 

"I know you want to come, baby." Mick canted his hips and drove inside, going deep; he was reclaiming his property. "You give me what I want, you get what you want." He angled his cock just right, if Len’s next scream had anything to say about it. Another deep thrust and Len's eyes were rolling back into his head. "No, Len; you do **not** get to pass out on me today." 

Len was in a sexual haze; the stimulation was overwhelming. Mick was hitting his prostate again and again, and he needed to come so bad. "Please." A soft whimper. "I can't...can't take anymore." He reached for his cock but his hand was pulled away.

"You know better than that; when I'm fucking you, the only way you come is by my hand alone." Mick's voice was softer. "Tell me, Len - you know the words **I** want to hear."

"Yours...yours Mick." Len didn't have a problem saying that; it had always been true. "OH FUCK! ALWAYS YOURS!"

"Yes, you are Leonard - **never** forget that." Mick took Len's cock in his fist and after two strokes Len screamed "MICK!" and he was shooting his load all over them. Mick wanted to keep going, but he tumbled into that abyss of bliss a minute later, following Len into what had to be fucking Heaven, with a deep moan of satisfaction. Mick fell forward, his body half atop Len's. "Jesus Christ, Lenny, fucking you is going to kill me." He didn't get a response and checked to make sure Len was still conscious - it wouldn't have been the first time Len had blacked out. Thankfully Len's eyes were open, but he was staring into space. "You remember how to speak?"

"Huh?" 

"I guess once again I fucked you stupid." Mick drew back and pulled Len into a sitting position, one arm around his waist, holding him there. 

Len's arms wrapped around Mick's body and his head fell against Mick's chest. 

That was new. Len was gripping him like a vise; it was as if he was in distress - not Len's usual style after they had sex; Len was normally mouthier. It took a few seconds for Mick to understand and he cradled Len's head against his chest. To an outsider it might have appeared strange - considering Mick's acerbic personality - but Mick could be extremely gentle when it came to Len. "I'm here, Lenny." He figured out what Len was thinking. "I won't go away again." Mick felt Len nod against him. "How about I just hold you for a while?"

Another silent nod. 

Mick didn't know how long they stayed like that, but he was willing to hold onto Len for however long was necessary; the tender moments were rare, but they did happen. 

After what seemed like forever Len finally looked up at him. 

Mick smiled. "Hi." 

"I love you." The words flew out before Len could stop them, but it didn't matter; they had to be said, now more than ever. "I just wanted you to know I never stopped."

"I never forgot you telling me all those years ago." Mick nodded in acknowledgement. "I wasn't ready to hear it then; that's why I left."

Len laid his head upon Mick's chest again, needing the comfort of Mick's arms around him. "You do know I'm going to murder you when I have the strength for that fucking hickey you gave me."

Mick barked out a laugh. 

"Tomorrow after breakfast," Len continued, "because I kill better on a full stomach."

"I'd like to see you try, my little snowflake."

Len pulled his head up. "Don't call me that." He finally smiled. "We're covered in come and we're filthy."

"Perfect post-coital conversation." 

"And he uses the big words," Len snickered, coming back to himself. 

"I even know some five syllable words now." Mick nodded. "I been building up my vocabulary." 

"You do at that - vo-cab-u-la-ry." Len gave him a pointed look. "And it's 'I've'; you need to learn the proper use of contractions."

"Smartass." Since his shirt had already been used for the first round clean up, Mick looked for something else this time; it took a moment for him to notice what they could use. "Heh." He grinned and wiped them up.

"Again." Len moaned softly, grabbing at Mick's cock.

"I can't, Len." Mick shook his head. "Can we please go to our nice soft bed now?" 

"Are you getting old, Mick?"

"Somewhat."

"That makes one of us," Len teased as his arms wrapped around Mick’s neck. "Carry me?"

Mick had to fight to get Len's arms off. "You have to walk, Lenny."

"But Mick...." Len pouted.

"No; there is no way in hell I can carry you there."

"Okay," Len agreed, but it was clear he wasn't happy about it.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

They exited the study naked, carrying their clothing and were sort of holding each other up.

Rip had stayed on the bridge, reading his book, while he waited for the men to leave his study; he really did have some work to do. "It's about bloody time." He saw what was in Mick's hand. "YOU OPENED MY 300 YEAR OLD BRANDY?!" Rip went into his study, which had the distinct odor of a brothel now. "OH MY GOD! YOU ARE BOTH CLEANING THIS UP TOMORROW!" He sat down and felt something wet. "IN MY CHAIR?!" And then Rip noticed his coat lying on the floor. He picked it up and saw a stain, smelling it. "YOU BASTARDS!"

Both men ignored him.

**~~~~~~~~~~**


	7. A Little Conversation/Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Len and Mick talk - yes, once again, Mick can converse when he chooses to; there's an epilogue

Len and Mick took a quick shower and ended up falling onto the bed, side by side.

Len kept sniffing at him and he covered Mick's face and neck with kisses. "I will never complain about watermelon again."

"I get it, Len, just...just stop smelling me or I swear I'm switching to something else."

Len reached for Mick’s cock.

"No." Mick took his hand away.

Len's other hand slid between them.

"Lenny, you need to stop," Mick implored. "I told you I can't go again right now."

"You don't want to make your pretty little snowflake feel good?" Len gave him doe eyes, took Mick's thumb into his mouth and sucked on it. 

Mick couldn't help moaning. "You know I do."

Len let Mick's thumb fall from his mouth.

"Later." Mick pursed his lips and glared.

"All right," Len conceded, "but a reminder, **Michael Rory** , that the glare doesn't work on me."

"I hate when you call me that."

"I know." Len ran his hand along Mick's chest. "So different without the scars."

"If you miss them, I could set myself on fire again," Mick cracked. 

"NO!" Len was horrified. "Don't ever joke about that! I find absolutely nothing funny in it!"

"Shh, okay, Len." Mick was contrite; the last thing he wanted was to upset his partner. But thoughts of his scars - sometimes he honestly wondered about finding a way to get them back. When Mick first saw himself naked after his time as Chronos he'd had to deal with extreme emotional pain in not seeing his body marred by burn scars. He had gone through Hell getting them and there had been inner turmoil and intense anxiety within him when he finally admitted to himself they were no longer there and would not magically reappear. 

"Mick?" Len sensed a change in Mick's mood. "You want to talk about it?"

Mick searched for the right words; he wasn't much of a talker as a norm, let alone when it came to his feelings, but he always did talk to Len - when Len prompted and/or pushed him. "Without the...damage, sometimes I think the lack of it takes away from the man I was and the man I became after the...accident." His tone reflected what could be construed as angst. "I've spent hours staring at my body in the mirror, wondering who I am."

"You're Mick Rory and scars or not," Len declared, "you were always beautiful to me, before the fire and after, and now. There is nothing - abso-fucking-lutely **nothing** \- that could ever change that."

"Beautiful?" Mick was thrown off guard; it was not a word people associated with him, nor he with himself. "No, that isn't me."

"Don't argue with Len," he leaned in and kissed Mick, but kept it chaste. "He's always right."

"Always?" Mick's lips twitched. "I wouldn't go that far."

"I don't want to talk about it anymore, Mick." Len palmed his face, skimming his thumb along Mick's cheek. 

"My turn." Mick took Len's hand in his. "You want to talk about whatever's bothering you? And don't tell me it's nothing, Len."

"I steal a car and you get wiped from existence." Len shook his head. "Both of our lives nearly destroyed because of me."

"Quit beating yourself up," Mick stated. "You remembered me; you shouldn't have, but you did. That's gotta count for something."

"Time to change the subject, Mick?"

"Let's talk about your use of 'abso-fucking-lutely'." This time Mick did smile. "What are you - 16?"

"Sixteen was the library," Len nodded, "and you stealing books."

"Speaking of the past - how exactly **did** you remember me?" Mick was curious. "I didn't exist."

"It was Stein, strangely enough," Len began. "He brought me in here and made me look at everything, and then I found the box of photos you've always kept, and Mick, if I ever make fun of you for being a sentimentalist again, feel free to kick my ass - again." 

"Stein," Mick nodded. "I had a conversation with him in the kitchen."

"You actually **spoke** to someone **other** than **me**?" Len reacted with mock surprise. "With **real** words? Not just a few grunts?"

"Fuck you, Lenny."

"Well, if you want...." Len went for Mick's cock again.

Mick snatched Len's hand away once more. "I said no, Len, so unless you want a spanking I suggest you back off." He noticed Len's hopeful expression. "Never mind; I forgot who I was talking to."

"Stein's a perceptive man so we’ll allow him to live." Len laughed a bit. "I just started to remember things. You, us, and everything we've done over the years."

"Like what?"

Len began to tell Mick all the memories that he hadn't thought about in so long and once he was done, they laid in silence for what seemed like forever.

Mick broke it by asking, "Whatever happened to that ex-wife of yours?" 

"She's a pit boss at a casino; been married six times since me." Len paused. "She killed two of them; I happened to have been in Reno and helped her get rid of the second body - acid bath."

"Aww, you're such a nice guy."

"I don't know what she did with the first one," Len shrugged, "and I think she might have killed one of the others also."

"Maybe it's a good thing you got a divorce." Mick finally laughed. "Sister Mary Grace - she must've provided us with five alibis."

"How much did it cost us in donations to that orphanage?" Len wondered aloud.

"I didn't mind that so much, Lenny - kids."

"She did say we were still going to Hell."

"So deep we'd **never** escape." 

"You do realize we haven't been really bad boys since we joined up here," Len pointed out. 

"What do you suggest we do?" Mick asked tongue-in-cheek. "Hurt Raymond?"

"We could do to him," Len said with just a hint of malice, "what we did to that guy in Brussels in 2003."

"The guy that turned us into the cops and got us locked up for two months?" Mick eyed him with scorn. "No, Len; you doing that once was more than enough."

Len couldn't help the malevolent smile. "Anatomy 101." 

"You were at it for almost 15 minutes and it was messy." Mick still cringed at the memory. "If you'll recall, I finally shot the guy so we could get out of there." 

"For the first and only time I saw you changing colors." Len laughed as he remembered Mick's expression. "I think you finally settled on pale green."

"It was gross, Lenny! Even I never did anything like that!" Mick snapped, before adding, "And if we did that to Palmer, would **you** want to face birdgirl? Because I certainly wouldn't."

"No." Len sighed rather loudly. "I kind of like Kendra and she did take us to that bakery."

"Speakin' of which," Mick frowned in disappointment, "I didn't get my rhubarb pie."

"I'll bake you one." Len nuzzled Mick's neck. "Just like I used to."

"That's very domestic of you, Leonard."

"Mick," Len propped his face up in his palm, "Stein said you worry about my eating habits."

"I do, Len; you never eat enough - just like when we were kids." Mick clasped his hands behind his head and gave him a thoughtful smile. "Somebody has to care."

"Fuck, Mick, you've become a damn sap!"

"I was always a sap for you, Len." Mick flushed a slight shade of pink. "You just never noticed."

"You're going to say it, aren't you?" Len asked. 

"Yeah," Mick nodded, "why not? We're having a moment."

"A moment?" Len started to laugh again. 

"Fine, I won't say it!" Mick huffed.

"Please say it, Mick." Len calmed himself as best he could. "I want you to."

"Only if you stop with the damn cackling."

Len bit the inside of this cheek. "All stopped."

Mick mumbled.

"Nope, sorry, Mick, I didn't quite get that."

"I love you, you putz."

"Putz?" Len clutched his chest. "Ooh, Mick, you wound me."

"Glad we got that out of the way after three decades and I ain't sayin' it ever again; I got a reputation, you know." 

Len opened his mouth, thought better of it, and closed it.

"That's right, Len, keep your trap shut for a change." Mick pulled Len into his arms again. "I'm happy you like the watermelon body wash now. It’s my favorite and I don’t want to change it."

"I'll deal." Len had everything he wanted now; he had Mick back and their lives were **finally** righted. "I really did miss you." 

"I missed my bed warmer." Mick leaned down for one more kiss. "And I'm glad you also decided you like my aftershave."

"That I lied about; if you use it again I'll make you drink it."

"Len?"

"I really need some rest now, Mick."

"I just want to know if we're ever going to steal the Mona Lisa like you promised."

"Soon, Mick," Len replied, "very soon."

It was the truth. 

Len was indeed **still** working on that plan and he intended for them to pull it off.

Eventually.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

The next day Mick found Martin in the room he had commandeered for a lab. "I owe you a conversation, Stein." 

"Yes, Mick, you certainly do."

Mick held up a fresh bottle of whiskey. "Take a seat."

"Smoke?" Martin took out a joint.

"Why not?" Mick tossed him the lighter.

Twenty-six minutes and 12 seconds later Martin put up his hand, wanting Mick to stop.

"I take it that's enough for you, Marty?"

"Yes." Martin swigged straight from the bottle. "And I do believe I **shall** have nightmares."

"Told ya," Mick grinned. "You need to heed my warnings in the future."

Len and Jax found their respective partners a short while later, both wasted and singing vulgar dirges.

"Hey, Snart," Jax started as he heard a verse, "what's a...."

Len snickered. "How about you ask the professor when he's sober?" 

"They look like they're having a good time," Jax said with a smile.

"Wait for it." Len ticked off fingers on his hand - one, two, three four....

Mick's head slammed into the table.

"Drinks too much and passes out." Len helped Mick to his feet.

Mick's head came up. "Where we going, Lenny?"

"You're going to bed; time to sleep it off." 

"Aspirin?"

"I'll have some waiting for you when you wake up."

"Okay." Mick's head slumped.

Len tossed Mick over his shoulder. "Idiot."

"I heard that."

"I know you did."

Jax watched Martin's head drop back as he slumped in his chair; he opted to leave his partner there.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

** Epilogue **

When the ship landed, the team exited and found themselves in what appeared to be an abandoned town in a desert.

"Mister Rory," Rip announced, "according to Gideon nobody has lived in..." he checked his pad, "...Juniper Gulch...for 80 years. Feel free to - I cannot believe I'm saying this - burn it to the ground."

"I can torch it?" Mick asked, wanting clarification. "No catch?"

"No catch," Rip told him. "Consider this an...an apol...apol...."

"Say it, Rip," Len warned, "or I give you a more detailed description about Brussels and maybe act it out with you."

"Fine! An apology for your non-existence!" Rip was seething. "Are you all happy now? I'm releasing a pyromaniac onto an innocent town."

Mick was like lightning, racing into the ship and returning a few minutes later with his safety goggles around his neck, his gun in his right hand and his Zippo in his left. He looked positively gleeful as he stepped off the ship. "C'mon, Hot Rod, let's burn."

"You named your gun?" Ray asked.

Mick bared his teeth, looking to all like a rabid animal. "You gotta problem with that, Shrinky-Dink?"

"Me? No, I have no problem with it." Ray smiled rather nervously. "I think that every weapon should have a name and...."

"Quit while you're ahead, Ray," Kendra told him.

Jax covered his mouth to smother his laughter.

Mick returned his focus to the town with a malicious grin. Tormenting Raymond Palmer was his second favorite hobby and if this team stayed together much longer, it might become his number one. 

Just not right now. 

Now he was going to indulge in number one. 

He flipped open his Zippo and touched it to an old building made of dried wood, watching the fire quickly take hold; he then put on his gloves and goggles, and his heat gun took care of the building across the street. Mick stood in front of it, pushing his goggles back, looking totally orgasmic as he watched it burn, enthralled by the flames and the pretty colors within them, and after a few minutes he moved towards the next building.

Rip turned to Len and sneered. "You and your bright ideas."

"He's happy," Len replied, watching Mick do what he did best. Well, one of the things, if Len's ass had anything to say about it.

"He does look happy," Sara added with a smile, and darted off after Mick, Bo stick in hand.

"I'm not sure which one of them is more insane," Rip commented, as he watched her knock down posts and smash windows. "And you, Mister Snart, you owe me something for having to listen to you and Mister Rory and your...adventure...in my study."

"Nobody forced you to listen; you probably got off on it," Len shot back.

Rip was affronted. "I did no such thing."

"Bullshit; you could have left any time but you didn't." Rip's flushed face gave Len his answer. "And your study and jacket were cleaned up."

"Yes, by Raymond," Rip replied. "Your partner waving about a straight razor and threatening to shave his head if he didn't do as he was told was not very nice."

"Not nice at all!" Ray nodded, then caught Len's glare and took a step back. "Well, it really wasn't."

"Look at the bright side, Rip." Len was smiling like a cobra ready to strike. "Mick wanted to give him a shave while wearing a blindfold; I talked him out of it."

"Actually," Ray perked up, "I've read that a straight razor gives the smoothest of shaves."

Len chuckled. "The last guy Mick shaved **never** had to shave again." He waved his finger across his throat.

Ray choked a bit. "I'll just shut up now."

"Stop threatening him, Leonard," Kendra told him.

"But I'm so adorable when I do it." Len blew her a kiss.

Kendra blushed and buried her face in Ray's shoulder, giggling like a schoolgirl.

"I still got it," Len said with a sly grin.

"C'mon, Professor," Jax grinned at his own partner, "you know you want to."

"I may want to, Jefferson, but...." Martin didn't get a chance to finish, because Jax clasped their hands together and Firestorm soared, taking in a bit of target practice.

"It does looks like fun." Len went inside and came out in his own clothing, holding his cold gun. 

"You're in a parka?" Rip stared at him in disbelief. "It's at least 38 degrees - Celsius, which I believe is 100 Fahrenheit to you."

Len looked around, concentrating for a moment. "103 Fahrenheit; 39.44 Celsius."

"How can you always tell the temperature?" That constantly amazed Rip. 

"If I tell you, I'll have to kill you." In truth Len had no idea how he did it. "And it's going to cool down in a moment." He ran ahead of Mick, waving his gun and freezing a building.

"I like you better in the leather jacket." Mick followed behind, melting his ice.

"Maybe I'll wear it later - with nothing else." Len winked and iced another building.

"At least the two of you are sane." Rip turned around to see Kendra walking back inside, shedding her clothes along the way, while Ray whimpered and followed her. "They are all demented." He headed into the Waverider; now was definitely a good time for him to lock himself in his (spotless) study and finish his book.

**FIN**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In comic book canon, the "Hot Rod" is indeed the nickname of Mick's gun. I'd love to see that brought into TV canon.

**Author's Note:**

> To everyone who read, and left comments and/or kudos, thank you very much and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.


End file.
